


It's a beginning

by JKlog



Series: The Third Pachakuti [2]
Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Gen, Sentinel Thursday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 07:03:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21424138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JKlog/pseuds/JKlog
Summary: Written for the Sentinel Thursday Recycled Challenge 358 – cascade.
Relationships: Jim Ellison/Blair Sandburg
Series: The Third Pachakuti [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1544491
Kudos: 7





	It's a beginning

Recycled Challenge 358 – cascade

Title: It’s a beginning

Author: JKlog

Category: Pre-slash

Word count: 2100

A/N: This story is a sequel to “The Third Pachakuti”. Thanks to Bluewolf for the beta read.

** **

** _Cascade, 2005_ **

Captain Simon Banks had been appointed Chief of Police. Detective Jim Ellison and his partner, Detective Blair Sandburg, were still working together, but perhaps not for much longer.

Apparently, the new Captain of Major Crimes, Richard Sullivan, wanted to separate them. New personnel were entering the department, and according to him, a reorganization had to be done so that each new detective had at his or her side one with more experience in Major Crimes.

Jim and Blair discussed the possibility of telling Sullivan about the Sentinel issue. But, in reality, they didn't have as much trust in him as they had with Banks, so they decided not to tell him anything. Instead, they decided they would quit and go to Peru. Jim knew he would be welcomed by the Chopek, and Blair too. After all, Incacha himself had passed the way of the shaman to him.

So, they left.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

** _Peru, La Montaña region_ **

Ali, Moi, Nanto and Amo (the warriors who had gone with Incacha to Cascade) received them and introduced them to the rest of the tribe. Although many still remembered Enqueri (Jim's Chopek name), none knew Blair. Both were made very welcome by the tribe and soon established themselves in their duties as Sentinel and Shaman. The Chopeks had been without a shaman since Incacha had left and were really happy to have Blair at that time. He admitted not knowing anything about being a shaman, but, as in his role as a Sentinel's Guide, he seemed to know instinctively what to do when the occasion arose to make a decision, or offer advice to someone. That made him very respected, since it confirmed his destiny to be a Shaman.

One day the tribe woke up to find their village completely flooded. An intense rain was falling. Nanto told Enqueri and Blair that it had never happened, that the soil always absorbed the water. But the rain that was falling, and that surely had fallen throughout the night, was too abundant for the soil to absorb.

They were going to have to go somewhere else, maybe a higher place. So, they climbed the mountain side. However, the Sentinel could hear that the higher they went, the worse the situation would be. Streams of water fell from the heights and would no doubt sweep the poor Chopek with their few, though precious, belongings away. They had no choice but to go back down.

Days went by and the rains were getting worse. Jim was leading the Chopek through the less flooded places, but none were available to stay permanently. Everyone, especially Blair, hoped that the rains would stop and that the Chopeks could return to their place of origin.

Blair recalled the dream he had had several years ago and Incacha's words in it: “There will be a third Pachakuti, when the waters rise again. Watch out.” He thought for a minute. _Would this be the moment?_

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

The Mayor of the city of Santa Clara was in a very difficult situation.

The inhabitants of the city, especially the richest who lived in the suburbs, were complaining that more and more Indians were approaching the city, pushed out of their home territory by the surrounding floods. There were thousands of them. And, of course, they had to eat, so they fed themselves fruits and vegetables from wherever they could find them. Naturally, they didn’t understand that they had to give money for them. They didn’t know about money. At least that was what it looked like, because really, several of them had tertiary education. But it was their way of life. They thought that food was not bought or sold, it was taken directly from Mother Earth, the Pachamama. Therefore, they had every right in the world to take it and feed themselves.

The merchants were furious, and they went to complain to the Mayor. He said he couldn't do anything, they were too many, he couldn't put them all in jail. But, besides, a very strange phenomenon was happening. The police didn’t act. They let the aborigines take the food.

The Mayor, Carlos Ferraro, locked in his office, began to think. _Sure, almost all police officers are of indigenous origin. How will they go against their own? In reality, the majority of the population has even some indigenous blood. What will happen if everyone decides to act like those who come from the mountain? Simply taking what they think is theirs, by right. A revolution? Will it be possible?_

These thoughts filled him with fear. He was a descendant of Spaniards, of one of the oldest and wealthiest families in Santa Clara. Certainly, he had the right to be Mayor of that city. They had chosen him for a reason. However, now he felt like an intruder. That land didn’t belong to him. Perhaps the time had come for the true owners of the land to claim what was theirs from the beginning.

Ferraro trembled. What would happen to him? His lands, his riches?

_Maybe I should ask the capital for help. That they send in the military._

He got up from his comfortable chair and approached some shelves where he had his books. He took a history book and opened it. There was an illustration of the meeting of the first Spaniards who had arrived in America and the natives. It seemed a peaceful encounter. But Ferraro knew the truth. It had been bloody. And the blood that had run was not Spanish.

He couldn’t allow history to repeat itself. At least, in Santa Clara there wouldn't be a bloodbath.

He felt behind him a faint knock on the door of his office.

"Come in!"

The head of his secretary appeared at the ajar door.

"Sir, the president of the Merchants Association wants to speak with you urgently."

"Let him come in," Ferraro said, without feeling like it.

The president of the Merchants Association, an obese and bald man, entered and pointed at Ferraro with his index finger.

“You are not doing anything! This is chaos and you are not doing anything!”

"What do you suggest I do, Gonzalez?"

“Make the army act! The police have their hands tied.” Gonzalez began to pace from one side to the other. “And people are rebelling. They think they can do what these Indians do. Take what they want as their own. That cannot be! We have to do something!"

Ferraro kept thinking. _Take what they want as their own. Isn't it ‘taking what they need as if it were theirs’? And, wouldn't it really be theirs, and we are the real usurpers? The real thieves._

But he couldn't tell that to Gonzalez, who looked at him with an angry face. So, he told him that he would take the necessary measures as soon as possible. This seemed to reassure the angry merchant, who left without closing the door.

_I have to talk to the aborigines_, Ferraro thought. That dialogue before anything else. That was the best.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

The chief of the Chopek tribe, Nanto, communicated with the other chiefs of the tribes who were camping near the city. He told them that the Shaman of his tribe wanted to meet with the Shamans of the other tribes, to tell them something of the utmost importance.

When the day of the meeting arrived, Blair received the other Shamans with great respect, and all, who were just over ten, were placed in a circle around a campfire, as was the custom. But there were some who were suspicious, hadn’t expected to find a white man with blue eyes taking the place of Shaman.

Blair got up from the crate he was sitting on and said:

“Welcome, shamans. I have something very important to tell you.”

A young shaman also rose from his seat. "And why should we listen to you, white man?"

Blair stared at him. “True, I’m a white man. But I was received by the Chopek people and now I am one of them. I’m faithful to them. As a Shaman, I just want everyone's good. That's why I called you. Listen to me, please.”

The young shaman sat down again. An old man said: “I think we should listen to him. Then we will judge.”

"Thank you," said Blair. And he told them about the dream he had about the Pachakuti that had happened throughout history and how he had been told that a third Pachakuti was approaching. He told them that he thought that moment had come.

“I just hope it doesn't involve bloodshed, as it happened in the past. I think we should try to change things, but in a peaceful way. Talk to the city authorities and tell them that we want land to work and procure our own livelihood. After all, these lands were ours before the Spaniards arrived. We shouldn’t want to throw them away, as they did with us. A peaceful coexistence, in which each one has his place. The gods wanted us to come here for a reason. The waters rose for a reason. That reason is to take our rightful place, the place that belongs to us. We are not less than anyone, neither more than anyone.”

Another old man said: “You speak like Tupak Amaru. Do you know what happened to him?”

"They cut him up," Blair replied.

"Don't you fear the same thing will happen to you?"

"No. Times have changed."

“Do you think that just by talking and asking them to give us a place, they will? I think you're too naive.”

There was a murmur of approval among the other shamans. Blair decided to use a resource he hadn’t used for a long time: obfuscation.

“I had another dream. In it I saw that the Chief of the city was with us. He wants to talk to us. Nor does he want violence.”

There was silence. The young man who had rebuked him at the beginning spoke again.

“And who is going to talk to him? You?"

Blair smiled at him. “If you want, I will. Although I would like some more to accompany me. Also my Sentinel, Enqueri.”

The one who seemed to be the oldest of the shamans, said: "Let those who want the Chopek shaman to speak raise their hands."

Everyone raised their hands, except the young shaman, who crossed his arms and frowned.

They named two other shamans to accompany Blair. They agreed that the Sentinel was also going. Blair was very pleased. Everything seemed to be on track.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

A few days later, the Mayor received Blair, Jim, and the other shamans. Of course, he asked how two white men from the USA had ended up living with the Chopek. Jim, speaking a very correct Spanish, explained what had happened in their lives, in summary form. Ferraro was very astonished and full of admiration. Then, Blair spoke on behalf of all the tribes, also in good Spanish, making their claims.

“I agree with you,” said Carlos Ferraro. “But as you will realize, I can’t make these decisions by myself. I must consult the Local Board. I’m going to suggest that the land that is owned by the city administration is distributed. Besides, I’ll add to them part of my lands, which are of very good quality, and are really being wasted ... No, don't thank me, I'm just doing the right thing. These lands belong to your people, as you, Mr. Shaman, well said. As long as those lands don’t produce, your people will need sustenance, obviously. I’ll institute financial assistance to the families affected by the floods. This way they can buy the food and there will be no problems with the merchants. Do you agree?"

“We’ll have to consult our people,” said Blair, “but I already tell you that your offer is very generous, Mr. Mayor.”

"Could we also attend the Local Board meeting?" Jim asked.

"I don’t think there will be a problem with that. Please follow me and we’ll make the necessary arrangements with the help of my secretary.”

While Blair talked with Ferraro and the secretary, Jim explained to the other shamans what had happened. They were pleased, but also noted that they should establish that their way of governing and their beliefs were respected. Jim told them that that was very important and that they would let the Local Board know.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

That night, Sentinel and Shaman were in their tent, talking about the exciting events of the day, before bedtime.

"Do you really think this is the third Pachakuti?" Jim asked.

"I don’t know. But surely, it’s a very good start. I think deep social changes are coming. You'll see.” And, as he did every night, he hugged his Sentinel, resting his head on his chest, to sleep peacefully.


End file.
